Winter Ailments
by Simplybofa
Summary: Ernst is sick and Hanschen is there. E/H


Hanschen wrapped his scarf a little tighter around his neck as he brusquely made his way toward Ernst's house. The snow around him would have appeared pleasantly light to any onlooker from the warmth of their fire lit common room; but to him is was an enemy, bent on blinding or otherwise hindering him from making the ordinarily short walk to Ernst's house as short as possible. His tall and muscular stature might have fooled any person looking for trouble, but it certainly wasn't fooling the blizzard. Now, he grunted and yanked his scarf tighter still. Damned snow.

A normal walk of the short distance between their houses would have taken him all of ten minutes; but now as he neared Ernst's front door, the time elapsed had been twice as long. Hanschen's already coiled nerves tightened even more as he awaited an answer to his knock.

A harried woman with flour and some other substance stained on her apron answered the door with a sigh and a flourish. Ernst's mother smiled at the sight of him and opened the door as wide as it could go and motioning him in.

"Hanschen!" She exclaimed. The effort seemed to have drained more energy than she had though, because she sank immediately after uttering his name and the dark circles under her eyes deepened. She brushed a piece of frizzy hair out of her eyes. "He's just had his lunch, he'll be so glad to have a visitor…" She motioned him up the stairs. Hanschen's brow furrowed.

"Hasn't anyone else been to see him?" He asked, his low voice rumbled with a flicker of upset. The already scurrying woman paused half way through the doorway to the kitchen. She turned and tilted her head.

"No…" She pursed her lips, as if just realizing this. "You'd be the first, dear." She waited a few more seconds and when he didn't appear to have any more to say, she started toward the kitchen again.

Disappointment and annoyance at his friends became his main thoughts. He started up the stairs, stomping a little louder than intended, and they groaned under his weight. The more he thought about feeble Ernst sitting up in bed, alone, the more he cursed himself for not coming sooner. Once there, he knocked on the door and waited. When a small sound arose from the crack in the door he pushed it open.

Ernst sat propped against a pillow, coughing into his fist. His ebony hair, forever in his face, flopped over his brow as he shook with effort. Hanschen immediately felt a little of his tension evaporate as he glimpsed the small boy. Ernst's eyes were closed and it appeared he hadn't noticed who was in the room.

"I'm fine mother," Ernst started, coughing one last time. "Stop hovering." He stopped, silenced as he opened his eyes and saw the blonde Hanschen standing before his bed. Chagrin tinged his cheeks and he lowered his eyes. Hanschen laughed.

"Well, if that be the case-," He made to exit the room.

"Hanschen," Ernst protested quickly with out thinking, blushing again as Hanschen turned and smiled.

"Well all right little Ernst," He started toward the side of his bed, sitting next to him; his feet still off the side. Ernst coughed again and Hanschen's expression became more serious. "I'm sorry I haven't come sooner." He said in a lowered voice.

Ernst was at a loss of words as was always the case where Hanschen was concerned. He unconsciously smiled a little, though, at his forwardness. Though it had always slightly frightened him, Hanschen's ability to speak his mind was one that he revered.

"I'm alright." He tried. But that didn't seem suitable. "I'm glad you're here." Shocked by his own forwardness, he ducked his head again and a shock of hair hung over his eyes.

Hanschen thought Ernst looked frailer than ever in his flimsy white shirt. He looked down and saw that Ernst's hands were clinched in fists, his pale skin taught and translucent over his knuckles. Hanschen frowned.

"Ernst," He tried to get the boy to raise his head. When he didn't respond, he took liberty of raising his chin with an icy cold finger. Ernst was burning up. He hadn't thought it through, though, and Ernst's head shot up, his chin unconsciously jutted out at the freezing finger. "Sorry." Hanschen uncharacteristically apologized. Ernst smiled weakly.

"Your hands are cold." He said. "And wet. It's snowing?" He looked toward the curtains drawn closed over his window. Hanschen rose, walking toward them and pulled them open to reveal the blizzard outside. It seemed to have worsened in the few minutes since he had come inside. As he walked back toward Ernst, he realized he was still wearing his soggy scarf and coat. He sighed and shrugged them off, letting them fall to the floor.

"The biggest storm so far this year, I'd venture." This didn't seem to make Ernst very happy. As Hanschen sat back next to him, Ernst bit his lip in thought. "What is it?" Hanschen asked.

"I feel terrible." Ernst stated, coughing again for a prolonged minute before continuing. "When I think of you struggling against that to get here…" He trailed off. Hanschen felt slightly flustered at Ernst's idea of his weakness to snow. But more than that, he felt warmth spread through him at Ernst's worry.

"I'm fine." Hanschen said, placing his hand over Ernst's. But this didn't ease his discomfort.

"Your hair is drenched." He said in a small voice, reaching shyly to run a finger over Hanschen's wet head before placing his hand back to rest under Hanschen's again. Hanschen sighed.

"Would you rather I not have come?" He asked. Ernst's frown deepened. It was a while before he answered.

"I'm not worth it…" He whispered, his eyes fluttering sickly closed in a prolonged blink. When he opened them, they were clouded with worry. Both his words and his obvious malady stirred anger in Hanschen.

"Yes, you are." He grunted. Ernst slightly shook his head while coughing for what seemed the tenth time since he had entered his room. "I would have come sooner but with school and chores I couldn't get away."

"You'll get sick." Ernst protested. "Health is more important."

"I'll survive." Hanschen said, brushing a strand of the dark, unruly hair that never seemed to leave Ernst alone away from his face. Ernst unconsciously leaned into his touch, making Hanschen hesitant to pull his hand away at all. The unspoken love between them seemed more sufficient than words for the moment so Hanschen stayed silent as Ernst coughed again. Hanschen's face softly twisted with worry.

"It's just a cold." Ernst said, reading his expression. "Nothing pressing."

"A cold turning toward something else." Hanschen said, stirred by Ernst's disregard for his ailment. Ernst said nothing, silently agreeing with him. He had known by the doctor and his mother's hushed conversations while they thought he was asleep that he wasn't getting better. He wasn't worse yet, but he wasn't better either.

Ernst's lip quivered and when he tried to control the tremor rising through him, it escalated. He shook and his hand unnoticingly tightened under Hanschen's. Tough as Hanschen liked to think himself, he momentarily shoved any self-sufficient notions far to the side and his heart broke for Ernst. He said nothing, but rose his legs on to the bed, sliding closer to the still trembling Ernst who had drawn his knees to his chest and was hugging them, trying to hold any last bit of warmth inside of himself.

Ernst thanked God for Hanschen, who had wrapped his arms around his steadily crumbled form. Despite his cold fingers and wet hair, Hanschen's warmth radiated and proceeded to spread through Ernst who closed his eyes and laid his head in the crook of Hanschen's arm. They sat silent until Ernst's shaking had subsided to a slight tremble and the occasional chill. Hanschen ran his nose along the top of Ernst's head. His hair smelled of fresh air despite his quarantine- just as it always had.

"I am glad you're here." Ernst said, emphasizing the 'am'.

"You've already said that." Hanschen said, smiling to himself despite the seriousness of the situation. It was a moment before Ernst answered.

"All the same." He said in a small voice. "I know it's selfish of me," He started, interrupted by another tremor. "And I am so very worried that you'll get sick," His voice rushed through this fragment, trying to get it out to assure both himself and Hanschen. "But I can't get over my relief." He admitted like a guilty schoolboy who'd been caught running with scissors. Hanschen smiled at that notion, imagining a young, abashed Ernst- scissors behind his back, cheeks flushed, head bowed.

"I'll be fine." Hanschen tried to assure Ernst, who pulled away slightly to look at him. "It's you I'm worried about." He added. "How are you feeling?" Ernst was quiet for a minute, choosing what to say.

"It varies." He sighed, coughing a short spurt, his fist clenched. "Some days are better than others." Hanschen frowned at this, though he knew it to be true. "I'm always tired." As if to emphasize this, Ernst unconsciously sagged in Hanschen's arms. Hanschen tightened them, feeling the strange urge to hold him together as though if he didn't, Ernst would fall apart. The image wasn't comforting.

"I wish I could have come sooner." Hanschen said. Ernst gave a weak smile, choosing to quote him.

"You've already said that." He said, but had to place his forehead on his still-drawn knees to catch his breath before looking for Hanschen's reaction. He was frowning at Ernst, and for a second Ernst thought he had offended him; his heart skipped a beat.

"I hate that you can't function." He sighed. "You can't go a minute without coughing and every instance you do I grow sadder." Ernst's heart swelled at Hanschen's words despite their darkness. "You must have been lonely." Hanschen commented.

"I've missed school. And church." Ernst said. Hanschen thought that was so like him. "And you." A twitch in the pit of Hanschen's stomach escalated to a heavy vibration as it entered his heart and sent a deep love resounding through his chest. He leaned down toward the pale boy who compelled his affection like no other and brushed his lips against his. Ernst's eyes widened as Hanschen momentarily drew his head back.

Ernst looked up at him, "You'll catch-," Hanschen smiled and leaned down once again. He placed a small kiss at the corner of his mouth, and then moved to a full-prolonged one. Ernst shuddered again, though not from tremors, and leaned into him. After a second, Ernst's need for air outweighed Hanschen's own need for Ernst and he drew away. "My cold." Ernst rasped, leaning his forehead against Hanschen's chest. Hanschen squeezed his eyes closed as his heart clenched in response to his feelings for Ernst. His throat constricted as he swallowed, and he willed himself to give Ernst time to breathe. As if to punctuate Hanschen's thoughts, Ernst pulled away- coughing into his fist again. His lips were flushed with color that had been absent in their sickly pallor not moments ago. Hanschen found himself staring at them.

"I'm frightened," Ernst said, crossing his arms around his knees. "I would never forgive my self if you caught this." Hanschen struggled to restrain the reigning impulse to draw Ernst closer. He needed to reassure him.

"I…" Hanschen started, attempting that reassurance. "Can't help it." He finished lamely. Ernst looked up at Hanschen and saw his eyes, filled with pain. "It very hard." Ernst nodded with understanding, shivering.

"To stay away?" Ernst asked. "And knowing you can't for the time being tends to," He gave a quick cough. "Drive you even closer?" He finished the question, remembering times during school or leisure with their friends that he had felt the same way. Hanschen shut his eyes for a second, and then opened them to stare directly into Ernst's, whose heart was fluttering wildly in his chest. Hanschen couldn't bear it any longer.

"Yes," He groaned, leaning down to Ernst, kissing him with out the ragged urgency of their previous kisses. Instead, passion enveloped him and spread like lightning through Ernst as well. Ernst closed his eyes, leaning back against his bed and Hanschen followed, placing his hands on either side of Ernst's face. He drew back for a fraction of a second, torturing both of them and driving their wanting further before placing his lips back against Ernst's. Ernst was the first to open his lips, inviting Hanschen's tongue to run along his lip before brushing his own.

Hanschen had always been the instigator, Ernst the follower; but now Ernst felt no feelings were hidden as they had been previously. Their kisses had always felt stolen, tentative. Now, though, there was no hindrance to his feelings for Hanschen.

Hanschen again remembered Ernst's condition and felt angry with himself for getting carried away. All Ernst needed was cause for shortness of breath or overexcitement… And it was Hanschen's affection for Ernst that motivated him to pull away. Sure as clock work, Ernst coughed; though, not as heavy as his first few. He looked up at Hanschen, propped up on an arm, with longing. He felt embarrassed by his forwardness. Hanschen smiled as that telltale blush colored Ernst's cheeks. Ernst shivered again, longer than before. Hanschen leaned down and placed a small kiss on his lips and Ernst tried not to pull him back down when he instantly raised his head back.

"You'll get better." Hanschen said, trying to convince himself more than Ernst. "I won't leave until you do." Ernst's brow furrowed, as if he was debating on weather or not to say something.

"I…" He started, but paused. Love didn't seem to be enough and he was having a hard time trying to think of a substitute for the word. "I…" Hanschen smiled at Ernst's effort and leaned down to rest his lips against Ernst's ear.

"I love you too." He whispered.


End file.
